


An Eye for an Eye and The World Goes Blind

by AceTactician



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Eye Trauma, Flashbacks, Gen, Hallucinations, Mid-Timeskip, Self-Mutilation, Tragedy of Duscur (Fire Emblem)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-18 11:36:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21710140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceTactician/pseuds/AceTactician
Summary: The Monastery has fallen, his classmates and beloved professor gone. Now Dimitri wanders the lands following the commands of the dead that echo in his mind demanding he fulfill their desires for revenge. Somewhere within those five years, they find him at his weakest and overpower him, breaking his resolve and driving him mad.This is the story of how the Crown Prince of Faerghus lost his eye.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	An Eye for an Eye and The World Goes Blind

**Author's Note:**

> The premise of how Dimitri lost his eye in this fic is based off a theory I saw floating around Reddit. Do be warned there are some graphic descriptions, so if that's not your cup of tea, that's totally fine! If you do stick around and read, I hope you enjoy it!

The spirits haunted him endlessly. 

As he walked along a snow-covered path he left behind not footprints, but trenches created by the drag of his boots across the ground, his body exhausted to the point that even picking up his feet was wasted energy. How long had it been since he’d slept last? How long had it been since he’d known peace? 

In his head were images of his father, his stepmother, Glenn- they all tormented him to no end, their restless whispers demanding revenge. 

He could feel their anguished desires, but even more than that, he could feel their impatience. 

It had been a couple of years since he managed to escape his own execution, his closest friend trading his life so that he may live. He’d fought battle after battle fleeing from those who pursued him until he’d managed to throw them off his trail and return to the crumbling kingdom that was Faerghus, but time did not heal all wounds. It was still fresh in his mind how many had died for him, how many had lost their lives due to his inability to save them. It weighed on him heavier than anything else, dragging him down no matter where he went. Anger, sadness, frustration, and guilt were all emotions that once crushed his chest before he’d locked them away, leaving behind only his rage, his mad rage for revenge. His world, once vibrant, was now tinged dull, the only colors he cared to see being the monochrome shades of grey all around and the sickly reds that sprayed from his enemies. He’d wandered the lands as a beast would, slaughtering anyone that stood in his way. Nothing would keep him from clearing away the regrets of the dead. He would have Edelgard’s head even if it killed him.

Night had fallen and with it, it brought a gentle snowfall. Perhaps years ago when he was young and naive, he would have enjoyed seeing the way the snow piled up on the ground. Sylvain and Ingrid would bring him along outside to start a snowball fight. Felix would reluctantly let himself be dragged along only to crunch up as much snow as he could fit into his mitten covered hands before launching the snowball at the back of Sylvain’s head and watching him fall to the ground with a laugh. Dedue would stand nearby at the ready should he ever need anything- 

The memory made him grip his lance with enough force to almost snap the weapon in half.

For a moment he felt something akin to longing spark in his chest before it was quickly extinguished. He had no time for such meaningless emotions. He was a beast, a monster with only one purpose. Everyone he once knew was nowhere to be found. Felix, Sylvain, Ingrid, the Blue Lions as a whole- even the professor, they were all gone but he was not alone. No, the voices of the dead ensured that he would not be alone, that he would not forget them.

He trudged through a snow-covered forest floor, lance in hand and shoulders slumped as snowflakes settled upon his armor. His hair, having grown longer and unruly, hung in front of his face, but the fact that it obscured part of his vision didn’t faze him. Travelers, merchants, and common folk alike all avoided the forests in the nighttime, for many of them feared the hidden threat of monsters. It was fitting this was where he was, a monster making his camp in the den of monsters. He’d broken branches off trees with his bare hands in order to turn them into firewood and light himself a fire, settling in the snow beside it to soak up its warmth. Night was falling and there was still a cool breeze, yet the rustling of leaves and chirping of insects meant nothing to him, for he could barely even hear them over the spirits speaking to him, words blending together in a cacophony of noise that made his head ache. He locked his gaze on the flames in front of him, a weak attempt at distracting himself, but an attempt nonetheless. The bright red flames licked at the sky, raging on in front of him, but the rage of the flames was nothing compared to that of those in his mind. The whispers in his head soon began to grow louder, so Dimitri buried his face in the fur of his cloak. Perhaps the darkness of the fur against his numbed cheeks would soothe him. But again, the voices persisted. They were getting stronger, their words becoming more and more coherent. Wrapping himself in his cloak, he lied down before the fire, curling up and praying to the goddess to silence the voices in his mind.

As the night wore on, Dimitri found himself unable to sleep. His restless nights were nothing new, for it had been days since he had last slept, and years since he had last slept peacefully, but his body ached for repose, the weight of all he had done piling up on him. His shoulders burned with soreness, his legs throbbing from how much he’d had to walk, but nothing could compare to the pain in his mind.

_"You must take our revenge"_ They would beg him.

_"We can never rest knowing they're still out there"_ They would remind him.

_"You survived to avenge us- it is what you're destined to do!"_ They would never let him forget.

But the more he tried to push them out of his mind, the more he tried to escape their voices, the harsher they got. 

_"How can you run away from your duty to us?!"_

_"Do you not honor the dead?!"_

Dimitri shook his head, shoving his palms up against his ears to block out the sounds, but how could he when they came from his own mind?

"Stop it..." Dimitri choked out a protest, curling in on himself.

_"You survived for one reason and one reason alone!"_

“Stop it…” Again he pleaded.

_“Your purpose is our revenge! Nothing more!”_

“Stop it!” He roared, eyes opening wide to stare at the flames still flaring with life before him. His chest rose and fell as he heaved a heavy, shaky sigh, his breath freezing in the air as it left his lungs. He stared at the flames, but his sights were clouded, barely making out the bright orange embers in front of him. It wasn’t until he caught a shadow of movement beyond the fire that he came back to the present. Sitting up almost immediately, he began to look around, trying to figure out who, or what, it was that he saw. As he blinked the bleariness out of his eyes, he saw the shadow move again, and in one swift motion, he grabbed his lance and rose to his feet, holding the lance defensively as he sluggishly moved around in the snow, the ache in his body impairing his movements.

“Who’s there? Show yourself!” He all but growled out, eyes glaring daggers into the bushes.

“Dimitri...” A familiar voice came from behind him, and as he turned around, he found himself face to face with a man he hadn’t seen in years. 

"Father..?!" Dimitri stared up at the figure in disbelief, unsure of what he was seeing, "Father!"

"Dimitri..." the figure repeated with a soft smile, reaching out a ghostly hand to caress Dimitri's cheek. It was strange; from him came no warmth, no true familiarity beyond his appearance. The image of his father was cold and almost unnatural, but Dimitri still clung to the image, the smallest of hope in the back of his mind praying that what he saw was real. That perhaps his appearance meant he’d be freed from the grasp of the dead. Tears pricked at his eyes, unable to be held back much longer as Dimitri reached out to touch him, but as soon as his hand passed through the apparition, the image of his father suddenly disappeared. Frantically, Dimitri looked around, searching for where the image of his father had gone, but it wasn’t until a few moments later that he returned. This time, part of his face was obscured by a darkness that the light of the flames did not reach, and there was no kindness in his features. There was a creeping hollowness behind his eyes despite the way Lambert’s face was contorted with anger, and as he spoke, a wretched snarl bit at his words, words that dripped with impatience, disappointment, and frustration. 

"Revenge is what we have been awaiting all this time, and yet you still have not given it to us?!" 

Lambert took one step forward into the light, and Dimitri took one step back, for whatever he was seeing couldn’t possibly have been his father… could it? He was drawn to him, but Lambert’s unnerving gaze set off every instinct in his body telling him to stay away, telling him that this was not the man who he once called his father. The half of his face previously obscured, now lit by the flames, was marred with burn scars, and a gaping hole in his chest oozed a sickly black liquid. Before Dimitri had any time to settle the storm in his mind, two more figures suddenly approached behind Lambert.

"I died for a noble cause, but the perpetrators are still out there." Another familiar man, one with long navy hair… Glenn? As he came closer, Dimitri could see multiple cuts along his entire body, slashes that made him realize just how disfigured Glenn’s body had to have been when they found him. The wounds all dripped the same black liquid that his father's had. His expression was desperate, but again there was a sudden change as Glenn took on an aggressive tone, an arm twitching as it rose to reach for him. “You’ll avenge me, won’t you?! You’ll bring me her head!” 

"You know what you must do, do you not?" Now a feminine figure, his stepmother?! Her head sat on her shoulders in an unnatural way, tilted as her gaze was locked on him. Burns decorated her skin, and she too turned aggressive. “What son are you, unable to save your own mother?!”

The three of them all shared the same blank stare, the same emotionless eyes as they spoke to him, reaching out to him as he backed away further. 

"No... no!" Dimitri choked out a protest, shaking his head, “Stay away!”

Guilt began to eat at him despite all the efforts he had made to keep it locked away. Though he knew they weren’t real, their words rang true. He had yet to avenge them, yet to bring them the head of the empress who caused all of this. He had yet to avenge them, and instead, here he was, having almost joined them himself. His body was a vessel for their revenge, his mind the command taking their orders, this they had not let him forget. For their sake, he was not allowed to fail, but now as they all came at him, he could not stop himself from moving away. As he continued to step back, he suddenly caught sight of movement behind him and promptly turned to face it.

“Weak child! You couldn’t save us before, our vengeance is your redemption!” More disfigured images began to appear, the faces of soldiers and friends he once knew now all lost to him. Voices that spoke to him now had bodies that all seeped the same tar-like black liquid, liquid that turned red as it hit the snow beneath him, decorating the ground in a sheen of blood. They all came from different directions, crowding around him and forcing him back. Gripping his lance in hand, he took a few swipes at them to keep them from coming closer, but he found his efforts were all for naught as the weapon simply passed through them, doing nothing to drive them away. 

"Leave me alone!" He continued to cry out in desperation, shutting his eyes as hard as he could, but even with his eyes closed, he could still see them. They were everywhere, all around him, haunting him mercilessly. Everything all at once, it was horrifying, every voice around him a reminder of his failures. There was nowhere to go, nothing he could do to rid himself of the hell he was trapped in. He soon picked up the smell of burning flesh, his left hand having strayed too close to the flames he had lit, but as he jerked his hand back and opened his eyes, all he could see was red, red, red. Suddenly, he was a child once more, staring at a hellish battlefield that reeked of death with wide eyes. He could hear the sound of the soldiers screaming as flames ate away at their flesh, burning their bodies to ash. Corpses lay on top of one another, any soldiers still living forfeiting their lives to the gruesome fate that awaited them. In the distance, he saw the lifeless corpses of his father, his stepmother, and Glenn. Within his memories, they always faced away from him, their expressions hidden from sight, yet now they stared at him with the same haunting gaze as before. Dimitri was frozen in place, unable to look away from them no matter how much he wanted to. It was a memory burned into his mind, every detail carefully etched into his conscious from the metallic smell of spilt blood to the tortured sounds of pleading cries. It was a memory that he had relived countless times over, one that the goddess was not merciful enough to let him forget. 

"No, no, no more!" He shrieked into the night air, his hands coming to cover his eyes, but, again, his efforts were all for naught. Nothing would work, nothing would make them go away. What would it take to let him be at peace, to let him forget?! His fingers began to dig at his eyes in frustration and anguish, nails scraping against his eyelids. The pain in his left hand from the burn grew more intense as he moved it, keeping him from being able to push too hard, but his right hand still maintained it's inhuman strength, having been left uninjured. How cruel the goddess was to play such a trick on him, to allow him to possess such great strength yet it not be enough to ensure the safety of those he cared for! How cruel she was to let him live when they had died so that their memory could torment him every second he still dared to breathe! How cruel she was to let it drive him into such madness! His chest began to tighten, fear and anxiety binding his lungs in a suffocating grip as the ghosts of those deceased danced around him, taunted him, and reached for him. He could feel the black liquid drip onto his armor, painting his hands and body with more red and burning the spots it touched. The fingers in his right hand dug deeper, pushing past the skin of his eyelid and reaching behind his eye. He could feel warmth blooming in his right eye for a moment before searing pain followed. The figures began to fade slightly, and Dimitri’s thoughts frantically began to race through his mind. Would this appease them? Is that what they wanted? His eye? Is that what it would take to keep them from coming alive to only him and continuing to torment him? If it were gone, would they stop?! 

The pain was nothing, he told himself. This would stop everything, this would bring him the peace he so desired. 

Behind his eye, he felt nerves and muscles begin to detach, tearing from the scratch of his nails and snapping completely from the pressure of his fingers driving further and further into the socket his eye rested in. He no longer felt pain, his hyperventilation accompanied by mad laughter as he continued to gouge at his eye. The pounding in his head only grew worse as the blood relentlessly spilled from the socket, staining the right side of his face a deep, dark crimson before dripping onto the snow below. The blood didn’t phase him, no, it was certainly a small price to pay, wasn’t it? To never again have to feel the guilt, the shame, the anger?! 

“Is this what you want?” He yelled out hysterically, turning to face all the apparitions around him. “Is it?! Does this _satisfy_ you?! _Will you leave me be?!”_ He spat out every word, a hiss accompanying them. 

His fingers, still stuck behind his eye, suddenly clamped down on his eyeball, crushing it to his fist as he jerked back, but it was not his own intention that had caused him to pull away.

White-hot pain flashed so brightly it blinded him- his screaming echoing throughout the woods as he pulled his bloodstained fingers out from the socket they’d been lodged in. In his hand lay mangled flesh and muscle, nerves and tissue, all torn, broken, and ruined beyond repair. The figures had finally disappeared, their voices for once coming to a halt. He could barely see, his vision horribly blurred. One side of his face was wet with tears he didn’t even know he’d been crying while the other was covered in blood, _his blood._ Dimitri took one step, then two before collapsing into the snow before the fire, exhausted and numb. There was no more pain, no more suffering. He couldn't feel the frigid bite of the cold, nor could he feel the warmth of the flames. He couldn’t hear the voices, a deafening silence blanketing his world. His head throbbed again, blood continuing to gush out of the self-inflicted wound. For a moment, he felt himself regretting what he had done. The pain was gone but in its place was a hollowness in both his chest and his face that was a thousand times worse. The things he had done were the actions of a monster- the monster he was, _the monster he had become._

_“Father… mother…”_

He could barely breathe out a whisper of the words,

_“Glenn… Dedue… Professor...”_

Spots began to dot his vision, and it wasn't long before it faded entirely, his mind and body succumbing to a deep, dark slumber.

_“Forgive me…”_


End file.
